Explore "Tarantella" by D.H. Lawrence on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
SAD as he sits on the white sea-stone / And the suave sea chuckles, and turns to the moon, / And the moon significant smiles at the cliffs and the boulders. / He sits like a shade by the flood alone / While I dance a tarantella on the rocks, and the croon / Of my mockery mocks at him over the waves' bright shoulders.
What can I do but dance alone, / Dance to the sliding sea and the moon, / For the moon on my breast and the air on my limbs and the foam on my feet? / For surely this earnest man has none / Of the night in his soul, and none of the tune / Of the waters within him; only the world's old wisdom to bleat.
I wish a wild sea-fellow would come down the glittering shingle, / A soulless neckar, with winking seas in his eyes / And falling waves in his arms, and the lost soul's kiss / On his lips: I long to be soulless, I tingle / To touch the sea in the last surprise / Of fiery coldness, to be gone in a lost soul's bliss.